


Regime Change

by Lycaste



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Relationships, Ex Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, Kink Meme, Mocking, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Psychological Warfare, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, complicated relationships back on Cybertron, trying to judge whether someone's still evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5603617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycaste/pseuds/Lycaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An engineering issue with the <i>Lost Light</i> sends the ship hurrying to Cybertron for repairs, bringing Megatron and Starscream back together for the first time since the trial. With Megatron now weakened from strength-suppressing energon, will Starscream abuse his position of power? Will either mech get what they want, or what they need? Will Megatron submit? Will Starscream rupture a fuel tank laughing over the whole situation? Only one thing is certain: it’s time for a regime change.</p><p>PWP. Written for <a href="http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=15181461">this request</a> on the kinkmeme: <i>Starscream pushes around and dominates a weakened Megatron.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Regime Change

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime after the end of _Dark Cybertron_ , after Starscream goes back to his G1ish design. For the purpose of this fic, we'll assume that Megatron's tangled, space-bridge twisted insides are concentrated in his mid-section. Not, you know, lower.
> 
> Written for the below request on the kink meme:
> 
> _alright, so you know how currently in MTMTE megatron is on whats basically temporary probation, and has to take strength-supressing energon as part of the deal of said probation? i want something where the MTMTE crew has just got back on cybertron and starscream and megatron meet back up for the first time since megatron left the planet, and starscream pushes megatron around and makes fun of him for being weaker from the strength supressants, and they bang and megatron has a really shameful angry boner from being overpowered and humiliated and starscream cant contain his glee. the normal megastar dubious consent fare is fine, but please not full-out noncon, id like them to both be willing and into it. and sticky is preferred but not necessary! thanks for reading_
> 
> *gazes longingly into the distance* Are you out there, Anon? Did you forget this prompt? I never did. You had me at "really shameful angry boner". I hope you see this. Unless you hate it, in which case I hope you don't see it. But by then, I guess, it will be too late. ;D

Starscream’s affronted shriek pierced the air like a surgeon’s blade. “What the hell is HE doing here?!?”

Cringing, Windblade dampened her audio input. "Rodimus sent him. He's here to update us on their progress."

She muted her receivers further, preparing for the inevitable outburst. Reporting to Starscream had become more difficult lately. The more powerful he became, the more his true nature was revealed. He was selfish and deceitful, compounding lies onto lies until determining the truth involved more divination than detective work. Attempts to confront him directly were pointless. He'd simply disappear into a trail of contradictory language, leaving her to wonder what exactly she had heard and what it had meant.

Briefings were the worst. At first she’d been surprised to see a full-length mirror in Starscream’s office. Now that she knew him better, she wasn't surprised at all. He spent more admiring himself than listening to his colleagues. As a result, being on the Council of Worlds had forced Windblade to develop a pushiness she never knew she possessed.

She'd need that pushiness to keep today's meeting on track. The _Lost Light_ had encountered, according to Rodimus, a _"quantum spiral thingy that was hella rad but totally messed up the ship",_ forcing them to limp back to Cybertron for extensive repairs. No one was happy about it, least of all Rodimus. He'd made it quite clear that they were to take off again ASAP, and that he didn't have time to _"listen to the fake Chosen One blow smoke up my tailpipe"._

Apparently he'd decided that Ultra Magnus didn't have time either, and sent Megatron to debrief everyone.

Windblade had been extremely wary of the decision, but Megatron was cooperative at the landing pad. He'd remained composed, if quiet, as he accompanied her, Ironhide, Chromia, and Wheeljack. Before they'd entered Starscream's office, he'd finally spoken.

_"I must warn you. My presence here may be ineffectual, considering the…high chancellor’s opinion of me."_

The disgust coloring his tone left nothing to the imagination regarding his feelings for Starscream. He hadn't been wrong either. Judging by Starscream’s reaction, Megatron’s presence was more than ineffectual. It was downright reviled.

"So they sent _him?_ " Starscream's voice became scratchier, taking on a high-pitched, desperate edge that Windblade had never heard before. "Does Rodimus have an underclocked processor?”

"Calm yourself, Starscream," said Megatron. "I'm merely here to debrief you."

"Calm myself?!" Starscream had a few cubes of energon on his desk, no doubt to offer during the meeting. He often bestowed energon as a gift, peppering his threats with friendly gestures and folding together layers of intimidation and kindness. "How can I stay calm with _you_ around?" He picked up a cube and threw it at Megatron.

It shattered on Megatron’s shoulder, the shell bursting into small pieces that chimed when they hit the ground. A blot of energon ran down his chest plate and dripped onto his thigh. It glistened in the flattering lighting of Starscream’s office, leaving a stained trail that disappeared behind the massive slab of armor covering his knee joint.

Windblade and Wheeljack gasped.

Chromia and Ironhide chuckled.

Starscream leapt to his feet and pointed his blasters at Megatron, shaking. "Come on then," he said. "I'm ready for you."

Megatron looked at his shoulder, face impassive. "Mature as ever, I see."

"Relax, will ya, Screamer?" said Ironhide. "He can't hurt anyone."

"He's Megatron!" said Starscream. "I don't see any stasis cuffs on him. What's stopping him from fighting us all right now?"

"Starscream-" said Windblade.

Starscream threw up his arms, somehow managing to pose elegantly amidst his distress. "This is insanity. No wonder I was chosen. I am the only sane person on this planet. The fact that you idiots _trust_ him..."

"It ain't a matter of trust in _him_ ," said Ironhide. "It's trust in the Fool’s Energon they gave 'im."

Starscream stopped. “What?” He mouthed the words a few times before continuing. "Foo-Fool’s...Energon...what?"

"Taking strength-suppressing energon was a requirement of my joining the _Lost Light_ ," said Megatron. "I cannot harm you. Nor do I have the desire to." He delivered the news with no resentment, no emotion at all.

"Right," said Starscream. "And you volunteered to drink it?"

"Yes," said Megatron simply. "And I see that no one cared to inform you. Perhaps they deemed it beneath your attention."

For such a skilled manipulator, Starscream let his emotions slip frequently. And when he did, it was like a rust storm on Caminus, sudden and with rapidly shifting conditions. In the space of a few moments, Windblade watched him go from plating-puffed wrath to frowning insult to open-faced curiosity.

Starscream sat back down and steepled his fingers under his chin. "Just how weakened are you?"

Megatron didn't answer.

"He's not gonna be winning any fights anytime soon, that's for sure," said Wheeljack.

"Really?" Starscream's entire demeanor lit up. His twin engines revved softly, but out of synch. "Strength-suppressing energon. I didn't know such a thing existed." He leaned back in his chair and reached out to pinch and rub one of his wingtips. His turbines started visibly spinning. "That must be so...humiliating for you."

Windblade felt the lines in her own wings grow warm. Starscream was...oh my. Maybe it was different for jets on Cybertron? She wouldn't _dare_ touch herself that way in public, especially if her afterburners were whining so loudly.

"I chose this," said Megatron. "As I chose to attend this meeting." He gestured to the rest of them. "And if you could get ahold of yourself, I'm sure we'd all like to see it begin."

"I don’t think so," said Starscream. "You and I are gonna have a private meeting. The rest of you, leave us."

"Starscream, I don't think-" said Windblade.

"Get. Out,” snapped Starscream. "That's an order."

Megatron patted her on the shoulder. "Go," he said. "I do not fear him."

"Come on," whispered Chromia. "This isn't our fight." She took Windblade's arm and led her away, followed by Wheeljack and Ironhide.

Windblade turned her head just before the door whooshed shut. An ominous smile had appeared on Starscream's face, exposing a row of bright teeth as he rubbed his hands together, darkly ogling Megatron's tall frame.

And then the door blocked out the image, sealing Megatron and Starscream inside alone.

Relief made Windblade’s frame sag, but a sliver of guilt had her throwing glances over her shoulder. Still, she followed the others in hurrying away from Starscream’s meeting room.

"That was _weird_ ," said Chromia. "Creepy weird."

"Yeah," said Wheeljack. "Too much unspoken tension for me."

"And did you see how _touchy_ he got?" asked Chromia. "Windblade, what does it mean when someone feels their wings like that?"

Windblade flushed, from her energon converter to her outermost fuel lines. She couldn't bring herself to say it. "Starscream _was_ acting bizarre, wasn’t he? Moreso than at the trial. I guess their history is more complicated than I realized." She turned to Ironhide, eager to steer the conversation in a direction other than wing touching. "What's with those two, anyway?"

Starscream’s voice rang out from behind the closed door, muffled but still audible. “…NOT get to take the high ground now!”

"Lady," said Ironhide, ushering them all down the hall faster. "You don't even wanna know."

 

~~~***~~~

 

He'd never openly admit it, but Starscream could sense a difference in the mech standing in front of him.

Composed. That was the first new strangeness. Megatron had often been poised, but not like this. There was an unusual placidity about him, a lack of the fire that had always burst from his plating. He was no longer spitting eloquent venom, no longer animated by the passionate anger that had drawn them all in. The inescapable gravity of Megatron was simply...gone.

Starscream immediately decided that he hated it. He also didn't believe it.

But the Fool’s Energon, if such a thing really existed, hadn't slumped the proud square of Megatron's shoulders. It hadn't changed that familiar stony and handsome face.

Starscream decided that he hated that too.

This had to be an act. He boosted power to his optics and tried to make out the subtle nuances of Megatron's posture. His visual sensors landed on the Autobot symbol.

It was almost enough to crash Starscream’s processor. He _still_ couldn't believe it. Autobot Megatron. There had to be an angle here, some sort of simmering long-term plan. If fear of an Autobot execution was Megatron's sole reason for wearing that stupid badge, Starscream was going to be deeply disappointed.

Megatron slowly arched an optic ridge. "As much as I've always enjoyed looking at you, Starscream, this grows tiresome." He stood relaxed, seemingly unafraid that he was now facing the Ultimate Ruler of Cybertron™. "Shall I debrief you on the absurdities of our journey, or was there something you wished to say?"

Starscream clenched his teeth so hard he saw pressure warnings. "You..." He gripped the edge of the desk and tried to wrestle control of himself. _He wants a reaction. Don't give it to him._ "Well I've never enjoyed looking at you, you traitorous bucket of mismatched spare parts."

Oops. That might have been a reaction. Starscream pulled his EM field in as closely as he could and fought to keep his posture neutral. At least he could count on a typical Megatron response.

But he didn't get it. Instead, an unusual expression crossed Megatron's face, some eerie hybrid of sadness and fondness. "An interesting choice of words, coming from you." Then he sighed and said, "The perfect Decepticon."

Hot, diffuse rage that he couldn't contain spread through Starscream's fuel lines. "Oh no you don't." He kicked back his chair, sending it crashing into the wall as he stood and rounded the desk. "You don't get to do that. You do NOT get to take the high ground now."

Megatron gracefully stepped forward to meet him. "Then when should I take it? When victory comes at the expense of ideology? When I destroy the honest freedom we originally fought for?" He towered over Starscream, but there was no violence in him. His fists were unclenched, voice even. "Tell me, _My Lord._ When is the ideal time for change?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, _Mighty Megatron_ ," said Starscream, powerless to prevent his voice from rising with each word. "But I already changed Cybertron! _I_ stopped the fighting. _I'm_ leading these people to peace." He poked Megatron in the Autobot symbol. "And they want _me_ in power."

"Spoken like a true senator," said Megatron smoothly.

Starscream's tiny dam of control collapsed under a tidal wave of fury. White wings swung on their hinges, his twin engines gave a last shudder amongst the ruins of his self-restraint. "How _dare_ you?" Impulsively, he planted his hands on Megatron's chest and pushed. Hard.

Megatron took an unsteady step backwards.

Starscream froze, his hands still outstretched in the air. In their countless physical altercations during millions of years, the old slagger had never stepped backwards. It had been easy, too. Like pushing someone with a heavy frame, but a weak engine.

Megatron wobbled before regaining his balance. His field flickered in an unsteady pattern, belying sine waves that Starscream had felt before. The first licks of indignant irritation.

Manic mirth quivered in Starscream's fuel tanks. "Is it true?!" he asked. With Seeker reaction time, he jumped at Megatron and shoved him again.

And again.

"Starscream," growled Megatron, stepping back with each not-so-playful shove. "Cease this ridiculous display." He tried to bat Starscream's arms away, but his cursory strength had little effect. "I won't fight you."

Starscream barely heard him over the sound of his own breathless giggles. "It IS true!" He bounced on his thrusters and whipped his palm towards Megatron's helm.

Megatron caught it. "Stop."

"No," sneered Starscream. He reached up and plucked Megatron's fingers, one by one, from his wrist. They came away so effortlessly, it was like tearing strips of lightweight foil. With his hand free, he slapped the taller mech in the face.

Megatron’s helm jerked with the force of the blow.

Pure delight surged through Starscream. He would have thrown another, but he was too stunned. It was _true._ They really did make him weaker. _Much weaker._

There was a ping from his interface programming, which wasn't surprising. He was used to it coming online whenever he fought with Megatron. Normally he'd be frantic to shut it down, but this time he let it boot into standby, letting a light buzz settle between his legs while he drank in Megatron's displeased countenance.

The best part was that Megatron was clearly trying not to get angry, but it was slipping through the cracks. His field spiked at odd intervals, and a deep frown furrowed his faceplates. He probably wasn't aware that the cables underneath his jaw were bulging. "I won't fight you," he repeated. "So let's wrap this up. Your power games are boring me, Starscream."

"Then perhaps," said Starscream in between escaping squeaks of laughter. "We need some entertainment."

In the past, fighting with Megatron was always a matter of speed versus strength. If he could move fast enough and avoid Megatron's crushing embrace, he could get in a few good shots. This philosophy was programmed into his fighting style, so Starscream twirled around Megatron's back and drove the heel of his palm against the seam of a shoulder joint, hoping to temporarily stun the larger mech’s ability to reach.

His next move was bolder, a split-second decision to test the effectiveness of the poisoned energon. Starscream dropped low and hurled himself into Megatron's legs, throwing his full weight against the backs of the knee joints.

They slammed into the floor with a boom that rattled everything in the office. Megatron tried to rise, Starscream threw him back down. They grappled on the floor, arms locking around necks. Hands grabbing and twisting. Megatron still knew how to fight, but his movements were all defensive. And leverage without strength meant little against Starscream's blinding attacks.

Slipping out of a weak attempt at a headlock, Starscream used the momentum to roll Megatron onto his front. He grabbed the other mech's arm and bent it behind his back until metal bowed and gears creaked. "Yield!" he shouted, stomping a foot onto Megatron's helm and driving his face into the floor. It was so _easy_. Megatron's joints folded like they were made of cheap rubber.

Interface queries climbing his status queue, Starscream onlined his thruster. Not a full ignition, just enough to make it warm and hum against the side of Megatron's face. "Yield," he repeated. "Or I'll turn this on."

Megatron struggled for another few seconds, but he couldn't throw Starscream off. Finally he sagged into the floor, grumbling.

Seeing him there, overpowered and somewhat compliant, nearly made Starscream's coolant boil dry. His head spun, drunk with the dominance of his position. He...he could do anything to Megatron now.

Anything.

"I've waited for this," murmured Starscream, spark soaring with glee. He released Megatron's arm, pleased that the former warlord didn't try to rise again. A quickly warming propulsive device to the head seemed an effective deterrent. "Look at you," he said. "Finally as weak in body as you are in mind."

Megatron braced a hand on the ground. "Unhand me. I don't have to put up with-"

Starscream kicked up his thruster another notch, to the brink of turning it on completely. The end began to glow red. "No. You don't," he said. "Go ahead and call for help. You could send a comm to Optimus." Starscream bent forward while still keeping a foot on Megatron. He could almost see himself in his mirror behind the desk from this angle. "Since I'm such a _benevolent_ leader, I'll let you go if Optimus takes offense." He threw back his head and cackled. "Maybe he'll write a public statement for you! You've proven yourself quite the microphone for _his_ ideology, haven't you?"

That certainly had an effect. Any airs that Megatron had cultivated sizzled and evaporated. His motor chunked, tire treads on the sides of his arms spinning against the floor. He looked up, his face full of pure hatred, as if he could somehow foist his own treachery onto Starscream.

But he couldn't. He must have known that, because although he seethed and sneered and gnashed his teeth, he stayed down. Sensitive optics still inches away from the glowing circle of Starscream's thruster, his sole recourse was to glare icily.

Which only fed the fires of Starscream's exhilaration. How far could he push this? He bent further and murmured at Megatron’s audial. "You’re going to repeat everything I say. And agree with it.”

"Delusional as always,” said Megatron.

"Am I?" asked Starscream. "Then you must be shaking from fear alone. I'm flattered." He straightened himself and leaned backwards, showing off his smooth cockpit glass and recently painted frame. "You said you've always enjoyed looking at me. Do you still find me attractive?"

Megatron’s features fell, anger giving way to confusion. "Really, Starscream? That's what this is all about?"

Starscream's fuel pump performed a sharp dip, supplying energon that felt too hot under his plating. He pivoted his foot, moving his thruster from the side of Megatron's face and onto the sturdier metal of his stupid bucket helm. He then applied a meager amount of pressure, enough to singe, and indicate his desire for Megatron to answer the question.

Megatron hissed. He clawed at the floor, and the energy output of his field nearly doubled.

 _That’s a strong response,_ thought Starscream. Was it too much, coupled with the sting of being overpowered? Even weakened, surely pain was nothing to Megatron, the mech who considered a missing arm to be a minor scratch. _Maybe he really is afraid to be under my heel._

Something pulsed, low and heavy, in Starscream’s interface array. His retracted spike was starting to ache near the base. A message appeared on his HUD about cooling fans, and Starscream let them click on without a thought. "I asked you a question," he said. "Do you still find me attractive?"

"Yes," said Megatron. "Despite my best interests."

Starscream removed his foot from Megatron's helm and stepped on his hand. "Yes, Lord Starscream, I still find you attractive."

"Yes, I still find you attractive," ground out Megatron.

Starscream grinned. That would do for now. They could work up to the "Lord" part. "Should you have listened to me more? The second-in-command that _you_ appointed?"

Megatron raised his head. "Yes," he said, quiet but hard-edged. "There were times when perhaps I should have listened to you.”

Starscream sucked in a breath through his vents. He'd waited years for such an admission. And as pleasurable as it was, something about it still left him cold.

Tanks rumbling, Megatron continued to glare. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

 _He's probably thirsty._ Starscream contemplated the still-full energon cubes on his desk. He always had energon available, both to lord it over his inferiors and to offer it freely. Because of all the subtle ways you could ooze between the seams of one's trust, getting someone accustomed to accepting food from you was extremely useful. Windblade might find herself sick and dying someday, with Starscream shaking his head in despair and demanding the others follow a non-existent trail back to a killer that couldn't possibly be Starscream the First **©**.

But today they were just pure, life-giving cubes. And Starscream himself was thirsty for more than energon. He released Megatron's hand and sat on the desk, dangling his legs over the edge. "Who's the rightful leader of Cybertron?"

Megatron shuffled to his knees. "If you think-"

Starscream lunged and grabbed Megatron's neck, his fingers barely spanning the diameter of wide throat cabling. He yanked upwards; pulling until Megatron was between his spread legs, chin at cockpit height. Marinating in the power of holding his former leader in such a submissive position, Starscream tightened his grip.

The air between them crackled with charge, and a tiny arc of blue electricity leapt from the edge of Starscream's thumb to Megatron's jaw. Starscream stared down his nose magisterially. Unafraid.

Megatron held it with a sneer of defiance, lips curled, optics furious. He wrapped his hands around Starscream’s wrists, but they felt like the whispered imaginings of vitality. All intention, barely there.

There was a loud click and a louder whirr. The sensors in Starscream's legs picked up a gust of warm air.

Megatron's cooling fans had clicked on.

 _Pit yes, this gets better and better._ Starscream squirmed, giving Megatron a show of the shiny plating between his legs. He dipped his voice to a Seeker purr. The same tone he'd always used when Thundercracker was having doubts. "Who's the rightful leader of Cybertron?"

A visible tremor coursed through Megatron’s body, his cooling fans growing louder. He was a crushed mountain of hot air and conflicting electrical bursts. "You," he said slowly, "are the current leader of Cybertron." And then he smirked, and for one horrifying moment, it was like they switched places. Like Starscream was the one on his knees, surrendering all control to a new leader. "For now."

"Forever," said Starscream. He released Megatron's neck, grabbed the cube, and took a small sip. "I'll bet you'd like some of this, wouldn't you?" He stopped himself. How much energon would it take for Megatron to regain his strength? It was probably a lot, and the toxic slag would have to be flushed out too.

At this point, it was worth the risk.

Placing one heel delicately on Megatron's shoulder, he poured most of the cube onto his own knee. It ran in pink rivulets, from blue plating onto white, meandering down his leg and slipping through the seams between pieces of metal. The little rivers wound around the sleek curves of his armor, sizzling and evaporating when they reached his still-warm thruster.

Still warm, but rapidly cooling. A single drop survived the trip down Starscream’s foot and fell onto Megatron’s arm.

Megatron flinched. Almost imperceptibly, but his plating contracted and his gaze dropped, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“I’m all dirty now.” Starscream pursed his lips, about to burst from joy at the sight of Megatron’s shame. He roughly took hold of Megatron’s chin and guided it towards his heel. "You can always call one of your Autobot pals." Sliding a finger up the side of Megatron’s face, he shoved it between the kneeling mech’s lips, working them apart. “Or you can make me force you, and embarrass yourself further.” 

Starscream experienced a lovely, tight little shiver deep inside. “I hope you make me force you,” he said, wriggling on the desk. “I think we both do.”

Megatron's jaw worked, like he was going to say something, but then he spat out Starscream’s finger and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. With a resentful glare, he turned his head towards the finely crafted leg on his shoulder. Tentatively swiping his tongue against Starscream's white heel, he lapped up a thin stream of energon.

"That's right," whispered Starscream, entranced by the scene of Megatron's tongue caressing his plating. "Get it all now."

Megatron gingerly lifted Starscream’s leg and licked around the rim of his thruster, optics flicking side to side, as if he didn't quite trust his erstwhile Air Commander not to turn it on in his mouth. His fingers twitched, face drawn into a mask of furious anger and beautiful disgrace.

And he _was_ beautiful, on his knees in front of Starscream. Nearly shaking with the humiliation of it all. He was beautiful and broken, something new yet something outmoded.

"See?" said Starscream. "Not everything requires brute strength. Don’t miss the knee joint!"

Megatron's cooling fans screamed, his motor was thundering. He looked like he wanted to rip Starscream's leg off, but they both knew he didn't have the strength. Instead, he hoisted the appendage and licked up the front, laving the areas where blue met white. His clever tongue sought out every drop, delved into every crack and depression. When he finally arrived at Starscream's knee, he licked into the joint to reach energon-coated gears and servos.

The entire time, he _curdled._ As though the fuel in his lines was congealing. The scent of him, the angry expression. The way he twitched every so often, like he was holding himself back from the pointless effort of struggling. It was all so delicious. It sent a bolt of hot desire straight down Starscream's backstrut.

"You look so good like this," said Starscream, wings quivering. Every circuit in his interface array stung. There was still a bit of energon left in the cube. It would be a crime, with resources so low, to let it go to waste.

Badly stifling a chortle, Starscream sent a command to retract his interface panel. His spike pressurized quickly, springing to its full size right in front of Megatron. He had painted it to match his current color scheme, red on white with a charming splash of blue near the tip. "Uh oh," he said, tipping the remnants of the cube onto himself.

The energon dripped down the length of him, pink liquid reflecting purple against light blue biolights. It sluiced warmth against his sensors, settling charge into his capacitors and making his spark flutter.

Starscream threw Megatron an exaggerated fake pout. "I'm so clumsy sometimes.” He brushed a speck of energon from the side of Megatron's mouth and brought it to his own lips. " Now lick it off, you pathetic fool. And if you bite me, you won't have to worry about an execution, because I'll tear out your spark right here."

Megatron kept his mouth shut, lips flattened hard together. He stared at Starscream with hatred so passionate, an abasement so becoming. Then, after appearing to deliberate it for a few moments, he offlined his optics and moved towards Starscream's waiting spike.

Starscream quickly bent down to rest his forehead on the back of Megatron's helm. "No no," he crooned, as soft and condescending as he could. "Keep them on."

Blazing red eyes tilted up towards him, but fury quickly dissolved into smugness. Their faces were so close. Close enough to kiss, close enough for him to smell the light scent of energon from Megatron's mouth. Gazes locked, Megatron leaned forward and licked a slow, tortuous line from the base of Starscream's spike to the tip.

Electric sensation zapped through his array. Starscream’s ailerons flapped on their hinges.

Megatron smirked.

He repeated the motion, laving the length of Starscream's spike and paying extra attention to all the delicate sensors down the side. The flicks of pressure stimulated tingling nervecircuits, creating shivers and zaps through Starscream’s sensornet.

"F-frag," muttered Starscream.

And then Megatron swallowed the tip, swirled his tongue around the head, and sucked none too gently.

“Slag, _yes_ ,” groaned Starscream. He pawed at blocky grey shoulders, unconcerned when he haphazardly kicked Megatron in the side.

Megatron slowly worked his way down, taking in more each time and then sucking and licking his way up to the top. The pleasure built, until Starscream's turbines whined in time with the meandering tongue. It was _so good._

Maybe it was a little too good. Was it Megatron’s intention to dictate control from his knees? Starscream's lust was climbing, and Megatron's palpable bitterness and sly attitude was launching it higher. As appealing as the thought of overloading all over a kneeling Megatron was, Starscream still held the power.

And they were far from finished.

Starscream placed his palm against Megatron's forehead and nudged him away, noting the pompous position of Megatron’s faceplates. Yet if he felt that he'd achieved some sort of victory, Starscream was determined to show him that he hadn't. Actions had their place, but words had always been a more effective form of provocation with Megatron. With a patronizing smile, Starscream said, "Thank you for letting me lick your spike, Lord Starscream."

Megatron immediately turned his head away. "No."

"What was that?" Starscream adjusted his crown and cast a glance to the mirror. Ah, from _here_ he could see himself. Very nice. "Say it. We both know what I'm capable of. And clearly you're too decrepit to fight back."

Megatron grunted. "Thank you for letting me lick your sheet metal spike."

Starscream had always been aware of his own mercurial moods. He was also more than aware that Megatron had exploited them in the past. A quick flash of anger spun his turbines, and he tamped down an offended shriek. Megatron was _not_ in control here. He kicked the middle of Megatron’s chest plate, right at the Autobot symbol. As the larger mech toppled backwards, he jumped off the desk and said, "Nice try, but-"

Starscream stopped. There, lying splayed on the ground and quickly struggling to collect himself, lay Megatron with his spike fully pressurized. It looked similar to designs he’d had in the past, overlapping grey plates with minimal lighting. Boring, but at least the paint matched.

The size matched too. Megatron never did anything small. And there was no hiding it now, his arousal stood huge and angry. Gloriously displayed.

They both fell quiet. Megatron’s jaw dropped. His EM patterns fluctuated wildly. Apparently he hadn't realized either that he'd lost control of his interface programming. Then, in the most entertaining, savory move he could make, he turned his head away. Unable to meet Starscream's eyes, his luscious humiliation was etched into his every movement.

Laughter bubbled from Starscream’s vocalizer. Once it started, a torrent of near hysteria broke through. "This is, ha ha ha, really turning you on!" His vents wheezed as he continued with a litany of gasping giggles and static-laced words. "This is too much...I can't even...I should've known...cogsucking old fool...at least something on you...hee hee hee...still works properly."

Megatron said nothing. He looked ridiculous, on the floor with his deftly constructed spike jutting out between his legs. The only sound that came from him was a light creak, the melody of teeth grinding together.

Starscream laughed until he thought his fuel tank would rupture. Finally, he pulled himself together and stood, displaying his own perfect body for Megatron's humbled scrutiny. "I think we could both get some satisfaction out of this, don't you?"

"At the rate you're verbally jerking yourself off, Starscream, I doubt it," said Megatron. Reclining on his elbows, he thumped one giant leg against the floor, then the other. "Are we going to do this, or will you persist in talking me to death?"

"I'd rather frag you to death," said Starscream. He assessed Megatron's position on the floor. How _should_ they do this? Megatron might not be strong, but he was still heavy. His dumb, shapely, wannabe-Autobot legs were too large to comfortably rest on Starscream's shoulders. He could take him from behind, but then he wouldn't get to see the livid indignity on Megatron's face.

Actually, he wanted to watch his own dazzling face as well. Swallowing down the last of his hiccupping giggles, he kicked at Megatron's side. "Move over." He prodded Megatron towards the corner of the room, closer to his full-length mirror. "Go around the desk. Over there."

Megatron gathered his legs under him, making to stand.

"Nuh uh," said Starscream. "If you get up, I'm gonna throw you back down again." A light, giddy joy wrapped around his spark. "Crawl."

Shuffling on his hands and feet, spike bobbing with every movement, Megatron scooted around the desk towards the corner of the room, eyeing Starscream suspiciously. He was resentment incarnate, and Starscream came dangerously close to succumbing to another round of debilitating snickers.

"There you go," said Starscream when they were in position. "One more skooch. Perfect!"

Megatron cocked his head, but then he threw a glance behind himself and met his own reflection in the mirror. Confusion quickly gave way to incredulity. "How surprising," he deadpanned. "Perhaps I should leave you and your ego to pleasure yourselves privately?"

"All this talk of self-pleasure," said Starscream. He dropped smoothly to his knees and spread Megatron's legs apart. "What are you trying to tell me?" He picked up Megatron's large, black hand and guided it towards his pelvic array.

Megatron huffed. His arm jerked, but Starscream held fast.

One by one, Starscream curled Megatron's fingers around the base of his own spike. He then squeezed, making Megatron grasp it firmly. "Touch yourself," he said.

Megatron hesitated. He flicked his gaze over his shoulder and then back to Starscream, as if trying to both confirm and deny the existence of the mirror. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"Shy, mighty Autobot?" asked Starscream. "Here. I'll show you how." He wrapped his hand around Megatron's, and began moving their combined fingers up and down. Slowly at first, but he quickly increased speed and pressure, polished digits running over flexible metal and blinking sensors.

Megatron didn’t look at Starscream or their mutual hand movements. He fixed his attention somewhere on the floor, but his body betrayed him. His frame shuddered lightly when they reached the top, and his engine revved every time they slid back down to the base. Soon a single bead of fluid appeared at the tip of his spike.

Starscream had never seen anything so satisfying. Megatron embarrassed and aroused. He removed his hand. "Keep going," he urged, delighted when Megatron's movements didn't stop. "There you go. Feels good, doesn't it?" He rested his arms on Megatron's knee and watched, his own core temperature creeping higher. "That sad old spike is almost as worthless as the rest of you."

Megatron glowered, but the hitch in his vents was audible.

"Don't stop." Starscream pushed Megatron's legs wider apart. The panel covering his valve was still closed, but its function at this point was purely ornamental. A clear fluid outlined the lower edge. Little bolts of electricity danced from corner to corner. Starscream tapped the panel, ignoring how Megatron jumped at the action. "Open this."

Without an argument, the panel slid back.

Starscream let out a long, slow vent. He'd seen Megatron's valve before, but never in a state of such vulnerability and self-display. The outer rubber petals were grey and glistening, decorated by a pattern of red biolights that alternated between pulsing circles and flickering lines. They quivered as Starscream lightly traced them, his finger growing wet from the electroconductive fluid.

Propping himself on his knees, Starscream leaned closer. He gently took hold of the outer edge of each side and drew them a fraction apart, stretching Megatron slightly to see the beginnings of a network of flexible mesh and a lovely design of diminishing concentric circles. They were ringed by softly glowing sensor strips, intricate and perfect, varying shades of grey and red.

"Oh," whispered Starscream, biting back a compliment. In all his various forms over the years, Megatron always had been alluring down there, the delicate complexity a strange juxtaposition with his harsh personality. "This will have to do," he said, trying for a bored tone of voice that just came out strangled. He eased a finger inside, pushing past thin alloys to tease at the deeper sensors within.

Megatron bucked, hand fumbling on his spike. "Star-uh..."

Starscream withdrew his finger and stuck it in his mouth. Megatron tasted different, not like the rich, oil-scented lubricant he was used to. Probably due to the poisoned energon. _Note to self: don't suck him off. Who knows what that stuff they're feeding him could do to you._ Not that Starscream had any plans to be the one doing the sucking. After years of submission, it was finally time for a new leader to wield control.

And Megatron seemed more than ready for it. A high amount of current flowed through his field. His biolights flared, spread knees shaking.

Starscream shuffled closer and maneuvered Megatron so his aft was slightly propped up by Starscream's thighs. He traced the rim of Megatron's swollen valve lips, watching sensor nodes light up in his path. "Beg me to frag you."

Megatron, the near-invincible warlord who'd crushed countless souls with his bare hands, emitted a sound somewhere between a whine and a moan.

"Beg me to frag you," said Starscream, hoping his outward patience cloaked how badly he wanted to make Megatron _his._ "Or I'll leave you like this, and tell everyone you were hot for it but your pneumatic pressure system failed. And that you cried."

"Fine," grumbled Megatron, fisting himself faster. "Please frag me, you sorry excuse for a leader."

Starscream frowned and pulled away.

"Starscream!" Megatron said quickly. "Frag me, Starscream. I...." He swallowed, and threw an arm over his face. "Please."

 _Good enough_ , thought Starscream. He didn't want to wait any longer himself. Taking hold of his equipment, he lined them up, bringing the head of his spike to Megatron's highly charged frame. The press of his hips was firm, his entrance slow. But a few inches was a dizzying drop into texture and electric sensation.

The first of their sensor nodes brushed, making them both gasp. The increase in charge concentrated their electromagnetic fields, and the current switched directions until it flowed in one smooth field that encompassed them both. Bringing them together, aligning every atom in their bodies.

The union wrapped Starscream's circuits in bliss. He sighed. He'd forgotten how _good_ it always was with Megatron. How powerful they were when they worked together. The sensors from his spike fed him data about Megatron's body and charge levels. Starscream cancelled it and rerouted power elsewhere. He had all the information he needed.

"Megatron," said Starscream sharply. He tipped his head, questioning.

Megatron nodded, raised his free hand, and curled his fingers in a "come here" gesture.

"More?" asked Starscream. He stifled down another fit of cackles. Megatron loved his spike. His memory core could deteriorate until he forgot his own name, but Starscream was preserving the file of this encounter until his dying day. Taking hold of Megatron's pelvic armor, he slammed his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt with one intrusive thrust.

Sensor-laden mesh and highly charged metal constricted to grip Starscream's spike. Nodes rubbed against each other, the friction producing a pleasure response in every neurocircuit. Megatron felt _amazing,_ and Starscream let out a staticky groan.

Still fondling himself, Megatron tipped his head back and echoed the sound. He wriggled his hips, trying to bring them closer together.

"Oh yeah," moaned Starscream. He rocked them gently and set a slow rhythm. Getting used to their positions and the intoxicating electromagnetic patterns all around them. It made his wings ache with charge, made his cockpit glass feel hot and expansive.

And then he spied himself in the mirror. Triumphant, spike-deep in Megatron while his former leader moaned and writhed beneath him, jacking himself off. At _his_ command. Starscream the leader. Starscream in charge.

At last.

Starscream paused to straighten his crown, prompting a disappointed sigh from Megatron.

"Keep playing with yourself," said Starscream. "Do it in time with my movements." He started up again, fragging harder, generating euphoric programming loops with each thrust.

They fit together perfectly, but hadn't they always? Fire and ice. Speed against power. Starscream's genius versus Megatron's rhetoric. They had always circled each other violently, and came together passionately. But with the tables turned, Starscream felt half-drunk with power. He _was_ the rightful leader of Cybertron.

And he needed to hear Megatron say it.

Megatron's engine stuttered each time Starscream pushed inside him. One hand clutched at Starscream's side, determined but weak. The other pumped his leaking spike in time with the motion of their bodies. His plating rattled, belying the trembling of the protoform below. His helm alternated between facing the ceiling, the wall, the other wall. He couldn't look at Starscream, couldn't acknowledge what they were doing.

 _We'll change that._ A sharp snap of his hips brought the searing metal of their arrays together. His spike rubbed against innermost sensor rings, setting off a charge that had them both groaning.

Seeing Megatron arch and moan made Starscream's mouth go dry and taste like rust. He licked his lips and said, "Watch yourself."

Megatron shook his head, a humiliated tinge leaking into the field around them.

"Watch yourself!" barked Starscream sharply.

Megatron's concentration snapped downwards. To Starscream buried in his body and his own hand fisting his spike. And then he _whimpered._ The bot who once pounded Starscream into an asteroid whimpered at the sight of their coupling and his unconcealed masturbation.

Seeing Megatron so turned on and degraded sent Starscream's own arousal soaring. His sensornet was an inferno, and Megatron felt so tight and wonderful. The buzz of an impending overload settled into his frame. It was difficult not to chase it, not to just slam himself into Megatron and take what he wanted.

It occurred to him that he had no idea how the Fool’s Energon would effect Megatron's ability to overload. It certainly didn't seem like it was effecting his interface programming. His valve cycled in tight, delicious pulses, and his spike was wet and fully pressurized. Yet the deep, rumbling sounds of debased pleasure, and the eager lift of his hips to meet Starscream's every thrust seemed to indicate that not only could he overload, but that he wasn't far away either.

That didn't mean he deserved to go first.

"Don't come without my permission," said Starscream.

Megatron shuddered. Every visible tire was turning, every buried gear was rattling, and the amplitude of their combined field climbed higher. Through a cage of clenched teeth, he said, "Stop talking and frag me harder."

"Orders, huh?" tsked Starscream. But it was clearly an order given out of desperation _._ He picked up the pace, burying himself over and over. His lesser functions shut down, freeing up processing power to focus on cooling systems and interpreting a myriad of pleasure signals.

But Megatron’s reactions were equally gratifying. His intense focus drilled holes into Starscream's spark. Mouth parted, satin silver lips slightly round. He pumped himself roughly, his spike stiff and ready. "More," he whispered.

Starscream's spark fluttered at the need in that familiar voice. The voice that had inspired his whole life. He braced himself on Megatron's chest, and moved his knees for more leverage.

Megatron propped himself up on one elbow. He hit Starscream's cockpit on the upward stroke of his spike, a mess of raw emotion and steam and reckless huffing sounds. "Starscream," he gasped. "Starscream, can I come?"

"No," said Starscream. He was trying to hold back as well, skating the edge of a crushing release. Their position was awkward, and he was dimly aware that he was putting too much strain on his left knee joint. He shifted more weight to his arms, locking the servos as he pounded into Megatron, tripping sensors again and again.

Megatron groaned. "Unggh...you're the rightful leader of Cybertron!"

That…was it? Wasn’t it? The admission he wanted, given easily and without fanfare. Yet it left Starscream empty, faltering. He shook his head. "Nope."

"Dammit, Starscream, you sadist!" Megatron stopped moving his hand. His valve fluttered, the pre-overload ripples that heralded ecstasy. He curled forward and brushed his forehead against the top of Starscream's helm, trembling all over. Being so close to the edge would be painful soon. Or maybe it already was, given the light scent of burnt-out components that was coming from him. "Starscream," he murmured. " _Starscream, please._ "

Hearing Megatron say his name, the raw-edged pleading of it, the inherent acknowledgement of his domination, Starscream couldn't wait any longer. "Look at yourself," he commanded, pushing against Megatron's chest to lay him on the floor again.

Megatron tilted his head back and regarded himself in the mirror, getting an upside down view of Starscream fragging him.

"You're pathetic," spat Starscream. "I did in months what you couldn't do in millions of years." He kept up the pace, flying closer and closer to the edge. The crown felt loose. It tilted on his head, like it was about to fall off. "And now you're just a weak shell. An empty promise that never amounted to anything."

Megatron's engine _screamed_. "I can't...I can't..."

"You’d better," panted Starscream. A message climbed his status queue. Overload imminent. He bit back a pleasured sob.

"Starscream." Megatron arched into the rhythm. "Please!"

Starscream looked up, wanting to see himself in power before he overloaded. Their optics met there, the mirror passing the intense energy between Megatron's reflection and Starscream's gaze. This was the way things were always meant to be. Megatron was _his._

Without thinking, Starscream blurted out, "Tell me you missed me!"

"I missed you," whispered Megatron, voice naked and honest.

And that was it. Starscream's body locked tight. The crown fell off his head. His vision went offline. A high-pitched squeal left his lips, and he overloaded into Megatron, pumping fluid and bursts of electricity in long, steady waves. Pleasure exploded from his spike and traveled through his core, hitting his spark in a rush of light and euphoria. He collapsed onto Megatron, mindlessly moving his hips as he flew from the summit of an overwhelming overload. 

He should have expected it. Flights of pleasure were always best with Megatron as copilot.

Beneath him, Megatron convulsed and emitted a low, satisfied groan, spurting transfluid onto Starscream’s cockpit. His valve throbbed, metal rings and flexible mesh tightening hard around Starscream's spike.

Starscream's vision came back in his right optic. "Yesss," he whispered into Megatron's chest. "Oh yes, Megatron, yes."

They held each other through the rest of the shivering aftershocks. Eventually the deluge of sensation became a trickle, and the vision came back in Starscream's left optic. He blearily raised his head to look at Megatron, and froze.

Megatron's face was open. Unmasked in a way that Starscream had never seen before. There was no anger, none of the smug superiority or perpetual irritation that Starscream was used to. There was only a guileless, handsome mech. Lips parted, EM field devoid of anything expressing power. His brow ridges knitted lightly together, making him appear...questioning. Younger. All defense mechanisms gone, all emotional boundaries destroyed.

After millions of years, Starscream finally saw Megatron. Undefended and exposed. Completely unfiltered.

"I..." said Starscream. He was blown away by it, torn between _I've always loved you_ and _I truly hate you_. He didn't know what to do with the knowledge that there could possibly be someone else inside Megatron. Had that person been there the whole time? Should he have seen it? If he had been in the position to dominate Megatron earlier, would he be seeing this reaction then? Or was this the result of defection and regret?

Or was it all a bunch of slag? An accomplished manipulator could often recognize another, and Starscream still believed them all fools for trusting Megatron.

Megatron's unprotected expression changed slightly, to amused expectation. Like he was waiting for Starscream to finish his sentence.

"I…I never said you could overload,” said Starscream.

Megatron's amusement bloomed into a wicked leer. "Oh? After a certain point, I had assumed it was implied."

"You and your entitled assumptions," said Starscream. He braced himself against Megatron and pulled out, biting his lip at the feel of Megatron's body against the oversensitized nodes of his spike. Sitting on the floor, he removed a polishing cloth from his subspace and started cleaning himself.

Megatron sat up and closed both interface panels. His frame was covered in a sheen of condensation and his own transfluid. He held up a sticky hand and grimaced.

Starscream finished drying himself the best he could and, because he was a magnanimous leader, tossed the dirty cloth to Megatron. "Here."

Megatron caught it, threw him an annoyed grunt, but began using it anyway. He was able to clean the majority of the mess, but anyone who considered him closely would be able to tell what happened.

 _I should call the Badgeless and make Megatron do the walk of shame in front of them._ Starscream unsubbed an energon stick and bit off a piece. He munched it slowly, the hardened fuel sending a jolt of much-needed energy through his systems.

Megatron concluded wiping himself off and looked at the stick like an underfueled mech. He quickly turned his head away, but his gaze soon drifted back to Starscream's fingers.

"You hate these," said Starscream.

"I hate the syrupy sweet ones that you like," said Megatron, still riveted on the energon stick.

"Those are the best ones!" said Starscream. This was an old argument. He narrowed his visual apertures suspiciously. "If I give this to you, will you regain your strength?"

"A tiny bite of energon?" said Megatron. "No. But even if it did, I wouldn't do anything about it. I am resigned to my fate, Starscream."

There was a sadness about him, a weariness that was never there before. Starscream didn't believe him, or did he? Even after this encounter, he still wasn't sure. Megatron was always patient in his plots, but he seemed so much more genuine now. It was unnerving. Starscream put his blasters on standby and handed over the energon stick. _If he actually says 'thank you', I'm gonna freak out._

Fortunately Megatron's manners hadn't undergone the same transformation as his personal beliefs. He snatched the stick without a word, took a bite, and ground it between his teeth. After a few moments of crunching, he turned to Starscream and with an air of calm tragedy, he said, "I'm responsible for the death of trillions."

The simple admission made Starscream very uncomfortable. It was a statement, but it was also something of a question. He shuffled closer and leaned against Megatron. "You're just realizing this now?"

Megatron didn’t respond. The energon stick trembled in his grasp.

Starscream liberated it and took another bite. "You're so..." He shook his head, frustrated. "Gah! If only you'd have _listened_ to me. Things would be..." He trailed off. How would things be? A better relationship with Megatron at the expense of not finally being in charge? Worse all around? Starscream watched the rising smoke from their bodies form rings and dissipate. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? The rightful leader, Starscream the First ®, is on the throne."

“Starscream the first,” groaned Megatron. “One can only hope you’re Starscream the last as well.” He grasped for the energon stick, but Starscream held it away. "There are many things I wish I’d done differently,” he said. “Some more than others."

"Like what?" asked Starscream, holding the stick hostage for the answer.

But Megatron still had an impressive reach. He quickly plucked the candy from Starscream's fingers and brought it to his lips, taking a long, slow lick. "I'm pleased you changed back to your old colors," he said. "This frame suits you."

A warm glow spread from Starscream's spark to his throat. Of course it suited him, but hearing Megatron say it was...

He squashed the feeling back down, shoved it in a vault, and threw away the passcode. _Whatever._ "I'm glad you’re a big dumb grounder again. You made a terrible plane." He programmed all the scorn he could muster into his tone. "Seriously. It was embarrassing seeing you with wings."

A new voice suddenly came from his left. "Awwww...."

Startled, Starscream whipped his head around to see Bumblebee sitting next to him. "Not you again. Go away. I'm not in the mood."

Bumblebee cocked his head and pointed to Megatron. "You two are still into each other. That's kinda cute, in a horrifying sort of way."

"What do you _want_?" said Starscream.

"Just wanted to see the hot action," said Bee. "Or I thought I did. Now I wanna see a therapist."

Starscream stretched his arms behind his head. "It was pretty hot, wasn't it? Never would’ve guessed it’d go down like that."

Bumblebee shrugged. "Humiliation is mind-numbing, and that can be freeing. Isn't that why you were into it, when it was _you_ underneath _him_?"

"I was never into it!" snapped Starscream.

"Uh huh. Sure you weren't,” said Bee. "Who's using who again here? I'm confused."

Starscream grabbed the energon stick from Megatron and threw it at Bumblebee. It passed through his frame and hit the far wall. "Frag off!"

"Starscream," said Megatron incredulously. His optics shifted around the room. "Who are you speaking to?"

"It was..." Starscream looked to his left again, but Bumblebee was gone. He synthesized a cough and tapped his helm. "Comm call. It's a lot of work, you know. Running an entire planet."

Megatron regarded him a long time. When he spoke, his voice was rough, but soft. "Are you alright?"

"What? I'm fine," said Starscream. "I'm great. I have everything I ever wanted. Well, almost everything. Still waiting on that execution." _You malfunctioning glitch. Don't care about me._

Laughing, Megatron picked up the crown that had fallen off Starscream's head during their interfacing. "Yes, the impending termination of my existence." He hefted the crown, examining it from all angles. "Do know, that I'm hoping my pardon lasts long enough to see the weight of this drag you down. And when it does, I suspect you'll be screaming for my help, once again."

 _There's the old Megatron._ As disturbing as it was, something about that was a relief. "Still a clueless old fool," Starscream said. "And they let you get away with it. Off galavanting around the galaxy while your soldiers, the people who worshipped you, struggle to survive."

That shut him up. Megatron’s smile vanished. He hung his head, still fiddling with the crown.

"You should be here," continued Starscream. "Helping to rebuild the Cybertron that _you_ destroyed." He stopped himself. That was...a really good idea. He would’ve been opposed to it at first, but with Megatron weakened, willingly weakened, it might work out. Working for Cybertron would be a far more fitting punishment.

And Megatron would be under his command every day.

Starscream shivered. Yes. This _was_ a really good idea. He should talk to Optimus about it. Climbing into Megatron's lap, he said, "You could be a subject in my empire."

Megatron scoffed, but settled Starscream more comfortably between his legs. "Your empire? You're the clueless one, Starscream. The new colonies will never unite under you, and this city will crumble under your leadership." He pointed the crown at Starscream. "In all the millennia, no one's ever been able to tame the will of our people."

"Then join me, Megatron, and watch me tame it," said Starscream. He clamped his fingers around Megatron's wrist and tugged upwards.

And Megatron resisted, tried to pull back, but he didn't have the strength. He was a helpless participant, forced to place the crown on Starscream's head.

"As I have tamed you," said Starscream with a grin.

Watching the affronted scowl cut across Megatron’s face was almost as pleasing as donning the crown.

 

 

The End


End file.
